Falling into Grace
by Fushicho no Kage
Summary: Lynn is a powerful metal user and just wants to live out her life, but the orphan girl's story is just beginning..... Sad news friends... Read the note for more details.
1. Chapter 1

She liked the sound of too many coins in her pockets. It was comforting, really. Especially if you got those rare, all-silver quarters that had a heavier jingle. There was a regular symphony with every step she took, almost like that fairytale about the dame on a white horse with bells tied to her ankles. Lyn didn't think she was a fairytale, but she knew she was something unreal.

Those thoughts were pushed from her head as she drove into town on her massive black Harley, scaring the living daylights out of all the birds in the trees. A small grin escaped her control and spread across her lips as she rode; this was going to be fun. The town was absolutely tiny, barely big enough for its own school and definitely not big enough for any of the major chain stores. Still, it had prospered over the years. Elmendorf was a pleasant little place that had grown from practically nothing and was really just a place for hunters to stop and restock their coolers. She loved it, however. Her "uncle" owned a nice lot up the road a ways; a spacious red cabin on forty-three acres. That's where she was headed, but she needed some food first, so she pulled into an empty space at the local mercantile and cut the engine on the big bike. She caught a glimpse of herself in the window and paused, fascinated. Steel-toed boots that were scuffed here and there but relatively new, loose jeans that had seen too many miles, a wallet chain looped from her front pocket to the battered leather thing she knew was in her back pocket, a simple, lace-trimmed red camisole under a heavy leather jacket with too many pockets, zippers, and scuffs, leather kid gloves fastened with metal snaps, and thin-framed aviators pushed up on her forehead. These things made up her outfit, but she saw a battered young woman running from her memories. She sighed to herself and went into the mercantile.

"'Mornin. Can I help you any?" The clerk was a middle-aged woman with dyed-black hair and an earnest face.

"Na. I'll just pick up a few things," Lyn replied easily. There wasn't too much to be had, but the things she needed were all there; bread, sandwich meat, condiments, soda, chips. She planned to be living off these things until she got a job. Before that, she would have to spend her money wisely.

"That'll be eighteen-fifty," the woman said once everything had been rung up. Lyn paid with one of her last twenties and frowned. She didn't want to have to steal anything…

"You been round here before?" the clerk asked as she bagged Lyn's things.

"Sure. My uncle owned the place out by the Greer's. I used to visit all the time… But now he's left it to me." She stopped there, knowing it would hurt if she said much more.

"That's too bad," the woman said. "You drive safe, now." Lyn nodded as she left. It was somewhat annoying, that false sympathy. She knew the woman had said what she did to be kind, but it only irritated her. Once she was on the road again, she pushed it out of her head. The drive was beautiful, especially in the late summer, as it was now. It took her about ten minutes to actually get out to the cabin, but she didn't mind; she loved riding along the narrow roads with no one else around. When she got to the cabin, she parked the Harley by the back door and used her key to get in. She was eager to see what kind of shape the place was in since no one had visited in about six months. The door opened easily, and a musty smell greeted her when she stepped inside. At least there was no scurrying of little rodent feet. As she wandered the rest of the cabin, she was pleased to find it in better shape than she had expected; the only slight problem was a small nest of mud divers in the rafters of the living room. No hornets, no mice, no ants. Lyn was satisfied.

It would take her at least a week to get the cabin in good working order, but she spent the rest of the day cleaning the important things like the bathrooms and the main bedroom. Dust had collected on everything and she was sneezing up a storm by the time she could see all the wood surfaces again. The bed linens were all airing out on the balcony, the floors had been swept, the windows washed, the window sills cleaned of the accumulation of bugs and dust, and Lyn was exhausted. By the time darkness had fallen, the cabin was in livable shape and she had to sit down, at least for a while.

"Well Miles," she said, referring to her uncle but talking to herself, "I hope you don't mind my living up here. I've got nowhere else to go. I miss you…" The words died on her lips, for she had fallen asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Lyn woke with a start, setting the fireplace set shaking, and immediately started shivering. The cabin was freezing! Puzzled by this, she stood and almost tripped over her shoes which she had pulled off before sitting. The thermostat on the wall under the stairs read 63/42. How it had gotten so cold in the cabin was beyond her. The system was set on air conditioning, but it was supposed to be sixty-three degrees… A cold snap in the middle of July? Not likely. She was looking at the thermostat when the real temperature number started to rise. It took almost five minutes, but the cabin eventually returned to the sixty-three it was supposed to be. Intrigued, but too tired to really do anything, Lyn shuffled to the master bedroom, flung herself down on the large bed, and was asleep in minutes.

When she woke again, it was with the sun. She stretched casually, the midnight incident forgotten. The clothes from the day before clung to her stubbornly as she shrugged out of them and stepped into the shower. It was blessedly hot, and she felt more awake once she was done. Wrapped in a towel, she went into the kitchen to see what time it was when her stomach growled at her angrily, demanding nourishment.

"I suppose I should eat something," she said to herself. With a little chuckle, she retreated to the bedroom and got dressed—black pants, white t-shirt, same boots—before fixing herself some bacon and eggs for breakfast. She opted to sit on the back porch and eat since it was turning into such a beautiful day, and was delighted by the sight of four or five deer gathered round the feeder that was about a hundred yards from the back door. As quietly as she could, she ate her breakfast and watched the little herd, remembering all the times her uncle Miles had taken her out hunting. She was glad that the deer would probably be left in peace from now on.

The Harley roared to a stop into front of the local grill—Louie's Place—and the girl that got off was a beauty. He had never seen such a beautiful young woman in a long time; not even his daughter—the light of his life—could match this woman. She was probably after the "now hiring" sign in the window. That was just fine with him. He came to the grill almost every day, and he wouldn't mind seeing more of this little girl. Nothing would happen—he wouldn't allow it—but looking never hurt a man. That bike was something else. Touring model, maybe… two years old. Enough saddle bags for an army on each side. When she walked past he thought he heard the muted jingle of too many coins in her pockets, but he dismissed it.

Lyn strode through the restaurant confidently, ignoring the looks she got from the local folk. She was quite used to strange looks from all sorts, and she didn't mind at all. The sign had said they were hiring, and that was wonderful. She didn't think she'd be able to find a job in town, but here it was. A sign next to the register said "If you're applyin ask for Mr. Nolan" in carefully written block letters. The lady behind the register glanced up.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a bored tone.

"I'm applyin. Can I talk to Mr. Nolan?" Lyn asked in the same bored tone. The woman huffed a little, but went to get Mr. Nolan. Lyn waited. After about five minutes the woman came back, followed by a large black man who was wiping his hands on a dirty towel.

"So you'd like to work here, huh?" he asked.

"Yes sir, I would."

"What's your name, sweetie?" Sweetie… just like Miles…

"Carolyn Rhodes, sir. But I prefer Lyn."

"All right, Lyn, you gon' be in school?"

"I will be, yes." She was a little anxious.

"All right then. Come on with me, we'll talk bout your hours an' pay," he said. Lyn followed him into the kitchen, behind which was a small office.

"Well now…" he said as he took the chair behind the desk. "What you're gon' do is be a waitress, all right? All right," he continued once she had nodded. "We'll start you round bout oh, six-fifty an hour. For the rest of the summer, you'll work most the day, but when school starts we'll cut you in round six o'clock, how's that?" Again, Lyn nodded. "All right. You want them checks every week? Two weeks? Month?"

"I think every two weeks will do fine," she said carefully.

"Thas good, cause everybody else is on two week. You'll be with Mark once he gets here, and I'll get him to show you round the place, how ev'ything works. You go on now, I won't see you till Monday," he said, giving her gentle shooing motions with his hands.

"Thank you, Mr. Nolan," she said, smiling.

"You go on and call me Jake, you hear?" She smiled wider and nodded before leaving. Once back outside, Lyn jumped on her Harley and rolled on over to the Elmendorf Soda Fountain for a float. She was surprised to find quite a lot of teenagers inside. Feeling a little strange, she ordered a root beer float and sat near the large glass windows, watching the traffic go by. Already, she could hear the talking starting. She didn't mind. A lot of people had talked about her over the years, for reasons good and bad, and she found that she didn't really care. The kids around her were nothing, really. Their opinions would never matter to her unless they became her friends or betters. For now, they were just strangers. The float was good, and she felt fine.

It was dark by the time she got home. The movie store had caught her interest, and she had rented a couple of comedy flicks. Dinner consisted of a sandwich and a can of soda, all she needed really. Once she was done with the food, however, she found that her interest in the movie—something about hitchhiking in the galaxy—had waned. Contemplative, she stepped out onto the back porch to watch the stars come out. One by one, the familiar constellations appeared. She couldn't see Orion because he was on the eastern horizon, blocked by the house, but Cancer was visible, along with Ursas minor and major, Andromeda, and her personal favorite, Draco. It was beyond her why the dragon was her constellation. She thought that maybe it was because her birth year put her in with the dragon on the Chinese calendar. Really, she just liked the strength of the constellation. It reminded her of Miles.

Miles Jefferson died of a heart attack just last fall. He had been running up a flight of stairs, and his body couldn't take it. Lyn had gone to the funeral, had helped Mrs. Jefferson with what she could, and had left. She was looking for a place to stay in Austin when a letter reached her, from Mrs. Jefferson. It was short and sweet. It stated that the Elmendorf property had been left entirely to her, all she had to do was sign the release form enclosed and she could do whatever she liked with the place. Stunned, she had signed the required paperwork, and jumped on the Harley she had bought on tips and savings. Two days later, after visiting briefly with Mrs. Jefferson, she was in Elmendorf.

It saddened her immensely. Miles had felt like family, the only person she had ever truly trusted, and she didn't even get to say goodbye. Still, she thought, you could be out on the streets. With a sigh, she left the warm summer night to its own devices and went to her bed to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

The next few weeks flew for Lyn. Between her job and getting the cabin in the shape she wanted it, she had almost no spare time on her hands. She had decided almost immediately that she liked having the wildlife around, and kept the feeders on the property well stocked with corn, even though no one would be hunting here for sometime. With her mechanical aptitude and metal-linked abilities, she was able to get the old tractor working again and cleared out the orchard that had been neglected for so long. By the end of July, she had planted a few apple trees, as well as some berry bushes—blackberry, raspberry, blueberry, the standards—and all were doing well. The job at "the grill" as she soon learned all the locals called it went well; the regulars tipped well, and newcomers were pleasant to talk to. Lyn had stopped eating sandwiches and chips by the third week and was practicing her skills in the kitchen. Her best effort thus far had been a sumptuous lobster tail soup. She had had to drive all the way to Austin to get the lobster, a two and a half hour drive one way. Now, only a day before her first day of school, she felt more than prepared for anything.

"Hey Jake!" she called.

"A-yuh?" he responded.

"I'm checking out! See you tomorrow!" He waved at her absently from the kitchen as she exited. She couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her features; this wasn't too bad. The Harley was waiting for her out back, as always. In the past week, she had decided to name it Shadow. She liked riding Shadow and using her powers to lift the bike off the road and soar out over the trees. Providing no one could see her, of course. Today she felt like flying, but thought that maybe she should stick to the pavement. Too many people were out and about in preparation for the next week. The huge bike roared to life and she let the rear end fishtail a little as she took off, sending gravel flying in all directions. She didn't see the eyes that watched her from a shadowed doorway.

There was a crisp breeze blowing as she rode on home, and she loved the feel of it whipping her shoulder-length black hair around. Her hands left the handlebars and she spread them out to her sides, like a bird in flight, steering with her mind. It felt good to be independent. She felt the change in her pockets humming, the steel in her boots vibrating with her good feeling, and she didn't care. For another two miles she let herself float, but then she pulled away from the awesome power humming through her, and forced herself to settle back into the more human part of her. She was home before that watching set of eyes made an important call.

Once Lyn was stopped in front of the cabin, the bike shut itself off and lowered its own kickstand while she walked up the three steps to the front porch. With a small motion of her hand, the door opened itself. As she entered her home, a couple of forks drifted after her, following as if curious. She went immediately to the back porch and again, the door seemed to open itself. Her mind touched the metal in her boots, on her jacket and belt, on her wrists in the heavy metal bangles she had taken to wearing, and she floated. She sat herself on the railing that wound around the balcony, and the forks drifted in front of her. She didn't look at them as they changed shaped and form. They first seemed to melt, became a little floating puddle of silver. Then the different kinds of metals separated; nickel, copper, silver. The silver—the largest puddle now—began turning quickly, changing shape and solidifying as it did so. Soon, there was a little dragon floating before her. The dragon came to rest on her knee while the nickel and copper began whirling together until they made and unique combination of color; the nickel was a very bright silver, and the copper was a good deal darker. The end result looked like marbled metal. This new puddle began melding itself into a pair of wings for the dragon, while a tiny bit broke off to form miniscule talons and eyes. The dragon floated up once again, and all the pieces combined to make a little silver dragon that fit in the palm of her hand. When Lyn looked down, she was slightly surprised; she had never made anything so detailed without watching what she was doing. Without her moving, the little dragon floated inside to settle on the mantle above the fireplace, a tiny, snarling sentry next to an antique lamp and an old metal iron.

There was a knock on her cabin door.


	4. Chapter 4

Lyn was startled enough to tumble off the railing where she had been sitting, but caught herself before she fell long, though she was floating upside down. She righted herself and wondered just who could be visiting. The only way to the front door was the hardly used road, and that passed right in front of her line of vision. Curious, she flew up to the roof, and tried to catch a glimpse of her visitor, but they were hidden by the roof of the front porch. Thwarted, she floated back down to the porch slowly. Who was it? The knock sounded again.

"I'm coming!" she said. She was striding across the living room when a thought struck her; why did this person go to the front door instead of calling to her on the back porch? She let herself wonder. When Lyn reached the door, she unlocked it with a thought, and pulled it open with her hand.

"Yes?" she asked. And no one was there. Puzzled, she took a couple of steps out onto the porch, looking around for any sign of her visitor. She thought she heard a faint "pop" sound from the roof, and suddenly she was grabbed from behind. Before she had time to scream, the pop sound struck her ears again and she disappeared.

She was floating in a black void, weightless… and unable to breathe. Panic set in and she started twisting around for no real reason.

_Do not worry. _The voice drifted to her as if in her mind, but that was impossible, wasn't it…? _You will be yourself again in a moment. _And, as if on cue from the voice, there was one more pop and she tumbled to the steel floor of…. Something.

"Welcome to the X-wing." It was the same voice as in her head. She looked up, confused, startled, and more than a little frightened. Her eyes met those of an elderly man in a wheelchair, and she felt a power almost beyond belief hiding just behind his eyes. A sense of calm settled over her, but she didn't want to feel calm, she wanted answers. She pushed the man's mind away with gentle force.

"Who are you? Why am I here?" she asked, pushing herself into a sitting position. She almost fell over again, but steadied herself. That "trip" through darkness had thrown her for a loop.

"We are like you, Carolyn. We are despised by the normal people of the world. We are mutants, as are you. _I have the power to control minds," _the elderly man said. "This fellow here," he continued, gesturing to a blue man. Blue! "Kurt can transport himself and others anywhere almost instantly. Ororo--or Storm--isat the controls. She can manipulate weather patterns in her immediate area. So you see, you are one of us," he finished.

"And what is your name, then?" Lyn asked, standing up. She was in the passenger section of a high-technology jet. "Storm", if that was her real name, gave her a little wave from the cockpit before going back to flying.

"My name is Professor Xavier. I am in charge of the X-men. We have decided to recruit you, Carolyn. Of course, you still have a choice in the matter. Where we are taking you is a specialized school for the gifted. Children and adults of all age come here to learn the use—or control—of their gifts, as well as to earn a full education. I am extending to you an invitation to attend our school and hone your talents," he said, smiling. More calm emanated from this man's head, and Lyn refused it.

"Why did you have to kidnap me? Couldn't you have just talked to me in my home, like normal people?" The blue boy winced, but she didn't regret her words. The change in her pockets was starting to hum.

"Carolyn, you need to calm down," Xavier said, feeling her anger.

"Why should I!" she demanded.

"Because we are flying in a very large piece of metal and I do not want to risk any of our lives or the lives of the people below us because you had a temper tantrum!" Xavier responded. Lyn found herself sitting down in an available chair without really wanting to. She had underestimated this man's ability, but he was breathing hard from the exertion.

"We want to recruit you because true metal-users are very rare in this world of mutants. There is only one other that we know of, and he is criminally insane. We were hoping that you would be able to help us in the battle against him. Magneto has never faced another metal user, and, if you are strong enough, we may be able to beat him finally. We need your help," he finished. He looked haggard now, this old man. Lyn listened to all this, pondering the possibilities in her head.

"I don't want to leave my home," she said finally. Xavier looked defeated. "I'll help you, but I don't want to leave my home. It means too much to me. I'll train more if you want me to, you can even call me in every weekend for a checkup, but I want to stay in Elmendorf." She regarded the old man steadily, happy to see relief on his face again.

"Storm," he called, "turn the ship around, we need to take Miss Rhodes back to her home." Immediately, the jet banked and headed back the way it had come.

"What's your name again?" Lyn asked the blue man after a few minutes of silence.

"Kurt," he said softly. He looked very shy. She noticed that he had a tail. A few coins drifted out of her pocket as she sat there, contemplating what she had gotten herself into. They twirled around in the air above her palm, creating intricate patterns that moved lazily.

"Professor," Storm called back, "We're hovering over her home."

"Very good. Carolyn, I will call you when I need your assistance, but until then, an operative of ours will be staying with you. He should be there in the next week. Good day." He didn't sound at all pleased. Kurt reached for her again, but she shoved him away, opened the closest door she saw, and launched herself out into the air. The jet was floating a good thousand feet above her home, and she let herself drift down in a graceful swan dive until she was about fifty feet from the ground, where she slowed her decent and landed easily next to Shadow. When Lyn turned to watch the jet leave, she couldn't see it. She knew it was there, however. That much metal could never get past her without her knowing. A roar of engines sounded, and she felt the jet moving away at incredible speeds. What was this about an operative staying with her?


	5. Chapter 5

The next day dawned clear, and Lyn was up with the sun. She didn't have to be in school for another hour, so she simply watched the day come alive. There was a group of deer out by the feeder; a few does, a buck, and a small yearling. After a while, she went back inside and prepared for the day. The day's ensemble included jeans that were only slightly worn, the steel-toed boots, a simple blue tank top, and her jacket. It was eight ten when she finally locked up the cabin and started up the Harley, and she had twenty minutes to get to the school in town. Plenty of time.

When Lyn pulled up and parked her Harley in front of the school, she was met with whistles and cheers of appreciation. A grin spread on her lips; these people had no idea what they were in for. The bell rang anda tall man with no hair on the top of his head started ushering kids into the school. The first thing she had to do was to go to her locker and leave some of her things there…

An arm shot out, right in front of her face, making her stop in her tracks. Annoyed, she looked up to see that the owner of the arm was a good-looking… man?

"Excuse me," she said.

"No can do, sweetheart. You're Carolyn Rhodes. Name's Grant Delyn. I'm supposed to watch you until the Professor calls." He extended a hand, but Lyn didn't immediately take it.

"Why should I trust you?" she asked. She noted that he had a small nose ring of the stud variety. She kept this in mind.

"Because, love," he said, leaning closer, "The Professor isn't the only one looking for you. I'm the only protection you have." His tone was dead serious, but if anyone looked upon the exchange, they would have thought they were a couple. Lyn considered.

"You're buying your own food," she stated.

"Aye. You'll be cooking it for me, though. Isn't that right, dear heart?" He leaned closer to give her a kiss on the cheek and she made the nose ring shove inward and twist painfully. Grant backed off, gripping his nose.

"Oi, what was that for?" he asked, his Australian accent heavily pronounced.

"I don't like this. You keep that in mind, and don't ever try to kiss me again," she hissed as she left her things in her locker. She reached to shut it, but Grant slammed it closed himself and pinned her against the wall.

"I don't like it either, little miss. And you'll damn well not tell me what to do, or I'll leave your ass out on its own," he growled. Lyn was surprised to hear an actual growl come from his throat, and thought she saw his eyes—which were an ice-clear blue—flash gold. Then he grabbed her chin and kissed her roughly, but only for a second. With one last angry look, he was gone. Shocked, Lyn could only watch him leave. Things were going to get very interesting, very quickly.

Her first class of the day was Economics. As much as she hated dealing with the economy, she needed the class to graduate full honors. She walked into the classroom and was hardly surprised to find Grant sitting in the back… next to the only empty seat. He waggled his fingers in greeting and gave her a sarcastic smile. With a sigh, she took the seat next to him. Of all the boys in the room, he was the best looking and uniquely dressed. Instead of the faded work jeans and plaid button down shirts that all the other boys seemed to be wearing, Grant was wearing slightly loose, dark jeans with a black polo shirt, along with black Converse. Lyn gave him points for this; if it weren't for her boots, she'd wear Converse all the time; the Converse just didn't have enough metal on them for her to lift herself with. A brown leather band was around his left wrist, and he wore no watch. He was very tanned, and had light brown hair. Lyn thought he looked good.

"Admiring the goods, love?" he asked.

"You too, dearie," she responded sweetly. She hadn't missed his scrutiny out of the corner of his eyes. He simply grinned and spent the next few minutes ignoring her.

"Good morning class," the teacher said as she walked in, "and welcome to senior Economics. My name is Joanna Martin, and you are all going to introduce yourselves to the rest of this class." She was writing things on the board; name, age, favorite music. "You are also going to give us this information. We'll go alphabetically. Anderson?" A young girl with platinum-blonde hair stood up.

"Hi, my name is Tiffany Anderson, I'm seventeen, and my favorite music is anything country," the girl said meekly. Lyn rolled her eyes. Great. A few more people introduced themselves, and then Grant was called.

"My name's Grant Delyn. I'm…. eighteen and my favorite music is, uh, death metal," he said easily. Eighteen? Lyn found it hard to believe. More of the class spoke until Lyn was the only stranger in the room.

"Rhodes?" the teacher called. Lyn stood and leaned against the desk.

"Name's Carolyn Rhodes. Call me Lyn. I'm eighteen, my favorite music is hardcore rock," she said in a bored tone. One of the boys couldn't take his eyes off of her, and she sat down.

"All right then, class. Today's lecture…" And so it went. When the bell finally rang forty-five minutes later, Lyn was grateful to be rid of the staring boy, but had found the lecture interesting. Grant followed her.

"Eighteen?" she asked, returning to her locker.

"You don't think they'd let a twenty-one year old into a high school, would you?" The grin on his face was nothing short of mischievous.

"Uh-huh. Who did you have to kill to get in?" Lyn traded her books at her locker.

"Oh, no one. Just forged the papers, you know. It's not hard."

"And you do this often?" she said in an accusatory tone. He ruffled a little.

"No, only on the job. Come on, love, don't make this harder for us." He tried an honest grin, and Lyn found her lips returning the grin. "Now, that's better. What's our next class, love?" he asked, putting an arm around her. Lyn was peeved, but only for a moment.

"Calculus." He groaned.

"Never did like the figures. Let's go then, shall we?" Lyn grinned and let him lead her to the next class.


	6. Chapter 6

"So how long have you been a mutant?" Lyn asked as they took a seat at an empty lunch table.

"Shh, shh!" Grant said immediately. "You never know who's listening. I've been freaked since puberty, just like the rest of us. It's a thing with hormones, you see. All that upheaval brings out their uh… hidden talents. Girls get there before boys, of course. I came full into my powers oh, around sixteen I suppose. Good thing for me the Professor saw my potential before the changes even started and got me where I could be monitored." He ate the tepid macaroni and cheese with fervor after his little speech. Lyn only picked at her food.

"What is your um, hidden talent?" she asked carefully.

"It's one of the dangerous ones," he said after a moment. "That's all you need know. Eat up, love, we've got work to do."

"Why are you avoiding the question?" she pressed, truly curious now.

"Because, love," he said, emphasizing "love", "my powers are so dangerous that I was locked up for almost five months to keep me from hurting anyone. The Professor had to keep me mentally sedated for two years because the smallest spark set off my anger, and my change. I could have killed my entire family if it weren't for that man. I owe him my life." Lyn was surprised by the fervor with which Grant had replied. "And I owe him my sanity," he added as an afterthought. She left the subject alone, and continued picking at her food.

"So love," he carried on, "where will I be sleeping, then?"

"Hrm." She contemplated for a moment before responding. "There's a room full of bunk beds upstairs, and the angle couch, and the bedroom in the basement, of course. That makes what, fourteen beds to choose from." Grant laughed for a bit, a big, honest laugh. Then he gave her a disbelieving look.

"You're not joking, then?" Lyn shook her head.

"My uncle had a lot of hunting pals. You can decide when you get there."

"Right then. You'll want to make a stop at the local grocer, lovey. I'll spot you enough money to buy meals for a week, ay?"

"When we get there," she said distantly. Grant took the hint and let her alone. The day progressed.

Lyn was waiting by Shadow. Grant had failed to get the last class of the day with her for some reason or another, and she was waiting for him to appear. Just as she was beginning to become upset with the man, one of the boys from her last period approached.

"Hello, Carolyn," he said amiably enough. He was tall, six feet at least, and didn't look too bad.

"Call me Lyn," she responded.

"All right. So tell me, Lyn," he continued, stressing the name, "how long have you been in Elmendorf?" For a moment, Lyn thought he was genuine, but then she caught sight of a group of boys watching intently from the corner of the building. So. It was a game.

"Oh, I've been coming here about five years. What was your name, again?"

"Ricky. Where'd you get that bike?" he asked, nonplussed.

"Dealer in Austin. Why do you ask?"

"Isn't it a bit strange for a girl to have her own bike, live in her own place, have her own job and still be in high school?" And here was the criticism.

"I don't think so. But then… I really don't see your point of view because I can't get my head that far up my ass," she said with a sweet tone and a poison grin. Ricky looked shocked beyond belief that she was able to outdo him, and she took the time during his silence to get on the Harley and start it with a throaty roar. Damnit Grant, she thought, get here now! And, as if on cue, Grant strode through the big double doors at the front of the school, as easy as you please. He quirked an eyebrow at the departing Ricky, but didn't say anything, only got on the bike behind Lyn. She left before his rear touched the seat, splaying gravel as the back tire fishtailed.

"What was that all about?" he asked in her ear. Having his arms around her was a bit unnerving.

"They wanted to put me down. I told them off." She was hardly done with her explanation when she pulled the Harley into the mercantile and cut the engine. "Feeling peckish?" she asked as she dismounted.

"I feel a sudden craving for cow," he replied, following her into the store.

"Cow it is!" She picked up a hefty steak, a can of green beans, soy sauce, ginger, and garlic.

"What's with the Japan-style?" Grant asked, tossing in a few boxes of macaroni and cheese.

"The best marinade you've ever tasted. Grab a gallon of milk while you're at it." He went to do as asked, wondering about the green-eyed girl. Would she really put up with him?

"You're total's twenty-five sixty-two," said the tired-looking clerk. Lyn reached for her wallet, but Grant got to his first, producing exact change in no time flat.

"What's with the exact change?" she asked as they put the groceries in the saddlebags.

"I just… don't like too much change in my pockets. My guess is that you would." Lyn chuckled a little, and then jumped on the bike. They were off in seconds.

Once they were in the cabin, Lyn grabbed the groceries and, since her hands were full, unlocked and opened the door with her mind. The groceries went in the proper places and Grant walked in slowly, taking the time to admire the cabin. He gave an appreciative little whistle.

"Nice place," he said in honesty. Lyn felt herself blushing.

"It was my uncle's. Well, my stepfather's. There are things that need to be done… but it's home," she offered, smiling to herself.

"You weren't lying about those beds," he commented once he had gotten a glance upstairs. Lyn chuckled to herself as she set about making her marinade for the steak.

"By god! This couch is huge!" Now Lyn laughed outright at Grant's response to the cabin. "No wonder you wanted to stay here!" She heard him flop down on the couch and sigh in contentment. It was how she felt every time she walked through the door.

"I think I'll take that full bed I saw upstairs. Right over the master suite, is it?"

"Yes," she replied, a little dubious. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I'm here to keep you from harm, aren't I? No harm in being as close as possible. I bet you can hear right through that floor, too." Lyn could barely believe he was so chivalrous. Did they really make men like that anymore?


	7. Chapter 7

Three hours later, once they had eaten and cleaned everything up, Lyn picked up the book she was currently reading, sat down on her favorite spot on the couch, and settled in for an easy evening of reading. Grant decided to change her plans. He lay down on the other side of the couch with his head a few inches from hers on the huge stack of pillows she was leaning an elbow on.

"So. Let's talk about ourselves, shall we?" he asked cheerfully. Lyn bit back a groan, but supposed she could learn at least a few things about her guest.

"Talk," she demanded, setting her book down and fixing him with a patient look.

"Well…. All right then. My name is Grant Delyn, I'm twenty-one, and I was born in Lisbon, Australia, to Rachel and Hugh Delyn. We all moved to the states when I was nine as my father was a well-loved designer of all things motorized and luxury. People started wondering why the wonderful things with the name "Delyn" on them were coming out of Australia instead of the states, so he was offered a very lucrative deal with Lockheed and Martin. He died when I was but fifteen, but had made enough money to that point to fund the rest of the lives of my mother and me."

"You say _veery_," Lyn stated, fascinated.

"All that and she's only got my accent to comment on," he replied, but in good humor. "Anyway, I spent my years in the states in California, up until my old man died. At that point, Xavier found me and I started to change. Maybe I'll tell you about all that later, but for now, we'll say it was a tough transition, and if it wasn't for the people around me, I might have turned out evil. Yet, here I am. Good and all that. Eh… I spent three years training at Xavier's school. He's brought in some very talented masters of at least six different martial arts. I do mostly guard duty as I can take extremely long hours."

"Extremely long hours? As in you can stay awake a long time?"

"I believe my limit thus far has been… two weeks. Yep, that sounds about right." Lyn was stunned. Two weeks!

"How do you manage that?" she asked, amazed.

"Well, part of my abilities is erm… a very flexible metabolism. The less I sleep the more I eat. This is why I will be paying the grocer's bill. No worries, love. You'll be safe on my watch." She couldn't hide her smile. "Now. They gave me a very simple profile about you, but not even Xavier knows much about you. Care to give a boy a hint?" he asked. Lyn chuckled a little, but wondered just what she could tell him… and decided to give him most of her story. With a sigh, she began.

"I was born somewhere in New Jersey. I don't know exactly when or where. My parents died or disappeared when I was three, and all I remember is a beautiful woman, and a tall man with a soothing voice. I don't know when my birthday is, but I put it on the day my parents disappeared. April fifteenth. All I remember from that day was rain and thunder."

"Oi, love, that's harsh," he said genuinely.

"Anyway, I went into an orphanage at that point, spent some time there, and was adopted by the Lincolns. I didn't like playing with other kids, and I would lock myself in my room for hours on end, reading book after book. The Lincolns were rather weak people, and couldn't take my brand of defiance, so they put me up for adoption, and the Rutherfords took me in. By that time, I was getting near puberty, and I started coming in to my powers. James Rutherford had a brand new Corvette that I was jealous of, and, one night when I was having bad dreams, I crushed it into a lump of metal the size of a basketball." Lyn grinned.

"I bet he was not a happy man," Grant said, also grinning.

"No, he wasn't, but he wrote it off as the local gang trying to prove something. There were other things, too. Mrs. Rutherford had an extensive collection of silverware and dishes, and I liked to play with them. Most times I would return the pieces when I was done, but some I would sculpt into new things, generally animals or faces. You can see that dragon there," she said, gesturing to the sculpture on the mantel. "I made that yesterday out of a couple of forks."

"That's amazing…" he replied, fascinated by the little dragon. "May I?" She nodded, and the dragon floated up, and, in a bit of showmanship, flapped its wings as if in real flight, and arrowed down to land in Grant's hand. Lyn half expected Grant to be amused by the little trick, but he only looked pensive.

"Please continue," he asked quietly, subdued.

"All right… The Rutherfords finally kicked me out for running off a group of bullies with ten-cent projectiles. I gave one boy a black eye, another a rather deep gash and the last went away with a broken nose. James and Helen never told anyone what I had done, but I was up for adoption the next day. After that, I kept my talents to myself, and was adopted by the Hayes. They had their hands full, adopting a fourteen-year-old, but I did my best to make it easy for them. That was in New York, where I found any number of empty lots and abandoned warehouses to practice in. After a while, it was getting too hard to keep my powers under wraps, so I sat the young couple down and told them about what I could do. I thought they would accept it; they sat there and listened to my story with rapt attention, and I even gave them a little demonstration."

"What was that?" Grant asked, setting the silver dragon carefully on the table.

"I just spun a quarter in the air, like this," she said, mimicking what she had done almost four years ago. "Roy Hayes said it was all right, and I went to bed. Twenty minutes later, Lita—Mrs. Hayes—woke me up and told me that Roy was going to call the police in the morning. She gave me a hundred dollars, helped me pack a bag full of clothes, and snuck me out the door."

"No one really understands us. I've seen ten year olds abandoned by their parents because they didn't fully understand their children. I'm sorry, this is your story," he said, smiling. His eyes were haunted.

"After that, I drifted for almost a year. I eventually found my way to Austin, where I played on street corners for change. Miles Jefferson found me there, got all the right paperwork done, and adopted me. I spent the next three years with Miles and Loretta. I never told them about my powers, and they never found out. I'd practice in secret, sneaking in little metal odds and ends that no one would miss and changing them into works of art. I even won a few contests with my sculptures. And now I'm here," she finished. When Lyn looked up, she was surprised at how close Grant was to her. He was giving her an intense look, like he wanted to say something, but couldn't.

"You said you made that dragon yesterday?" he asked. Lyn nodded. He scrutinized her for another moment, then turned away to regard the dragon. She took that opportunity to get up and check the beds upstairs.

"You wanted the full size?" she asked. There was an affirmative grunt from downstairs. She turned back the covers, checking for bugs or mice or whatever might have crawled in there, but didn't find anything. Satisfied, she went back downstairs and heard a cry of joy from the basement.

"You have a POOL TABLE?" Grant exclaimed. His head appeared in the stair well, glowing with joy. "Can I marry you?" he asked. Lyn laughed outright and eventually collapsed in the booth by the dining table. She heard him mount the steps and soon he was looking down at her from his lofty six foot three.

"I'll carry you away on my steed… or at least on your Harley," he said, sending her into another gale of laughter. Whenever she started laughing, it was almost impossible to get her to stop.

"We'll be king and queen of the world!" he continued, striking a commanding pose. "Lord and lady of erm…"

"All things great and small?" Lyn offered, reduced to giggles.

"Yeah! That sounds about right." As she looked up at him, she noticed that he had an endearing lopsided-grin. "I wonder, my lady," he said, leaning closer to her, "are you ticklish?" Lyn fought to keep a straight face.

"No," she replied between giggles.

"I will have to test that statement, love," he warned with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"No…" she begged, pushing herself further away along the booth. Unfortunately, Grant was very quick and caught her before she got far, pulling her back by her knees.

"The lady wishes to escape! This means war!" he declared, and started tickling her. She struggled in vain to get away from his hands, but he held her in place by hooking a leg around one of hers. For almost ten minutes he tortured her, making her scream with laughter and gasp for breath all at once.


	8. Chapter 8

It was a beautiful night out, and Logan was wondering about the newest member of the team. Well, soon to be member. Xavier had mentioned that she would be joining Storm's team because the woman was good with new recruits, especially those who already knew how to use their powers. Lately, the Professor had been searching the country for mutants, desperately trying to get his hands on them before Magneto's goons could. It was all the same to Logan as long as the new kids didn't bother him too much.

The coffee in his hand was warm, and he took a sip. He had read the kid's woefully slim bio, and couldn't figure out how she stayed pure. The same situations would have torn down a normal person. There had to be something there that sustained her, something that kept her going. It had been hard enough for him before the Professor found him, and he had spent a lot of his time without a memory. What he couldn't understand was how the kid just let things go. He told himself it wasn't too important, finished his coffee and went inside.

The kitchen was empty, but he could smell the vaguely sulfuric smell that Kurt sometimes left behind. What he could have been popping around for, Logan couldn't guess, but that kid was a nut job anyway. He left the kitchen and passed on bare feet the nearest lounge, where he found Bishop watching a little late-night television. The big man nodded to his elder and Logan moved on, intent on sleep. He was just mounting the stairs when an unfamiliar scent caught his nose, something metal. Just as he caught the sound of whirring helicopter blades, the explosion rocked the south end of the manor, setting off all sorts of alarms.

"Everybody up!" he roared, racing towards the south end. Bishop was just ahead of him.

"Anything?" the other man asked.

"Helicopters. Not military, definitely not government sanctioned." Logan's claws came out as he ran, and the two were joined by more and more mutants.

"Bobby! Get the young ones in the shelter!" Logan shouted as he passed the young man.

"Sure thing," he replied, and immediately began gathering the youngest mutants. Logan felt the air buzzing with lightning and grinned; Storm was on the chase.

The group finally made it to the south end, which showed devastating damage, and took to the air, summoned the earth, sky, water, and air to their bidding, all ready to defend the manor. Logan was shocked by what he saw.

Twelve helicopters were hovering in the air, and even as he watched, military personnel were leaping out, as well as mutants.

"Call Scaly," he told Bishop. "Get him and the new kid here _now!"_ He leapt forward and chaos ensued.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Grant was in the middle of a chapter of a Stephen King book he had borrowed when his communicator started beeping. Curious as to why a call was coming so late—it was well past midnight—he picked it up.

"Grant!" it was Bishop. Gunfire sounded in the background. "We need you and Carolyn at the manor, right now! We're un…" he was cutoff. Startled, Grant almost took off immediately, but caught himself and raced downstairs to wake Lyn.

"Huh?" she asked, drowsy.

"The manor's under attack, we need to go now!" he demanded. She woke up instantly and threw off the covers, exposing bare legs. Grant turned quickly, blushing.

"Get dressed," he said, trying to get the image of those perfect legs out of his head.

"I am," she replied as a pair of jeans floated past him. In less than two minutes, they were outside with the cabin locked up and the Harley was cranking itself up.

"We need to get there faster than a Harley can take us…."

"Just shut up and hold on," Lyn demanded as she zipped her jacket against the chill. Grant did as he was, though he was dubious. As soon as he sat down, the bike rocketed into the air, forcing him to hold on to Lyn's waist or fall off.

"Which way?" she asked.

"North!" She nodded and they _flew._ After only five minutes, they had arrived at the manor to find that the school's mutants were not faring well. None had been killed, but plenty had been taken prisoner, and more were hurt. Enraged, Grant launched himself from the bike, and Lyn didn't take the time to think about it, but let the bike float down while she concentrated and reached out with her mind to the helicopters and held herself in the air. She had to act with care to prevent casualties, so she reached deep into their engines and demolished every single piston, then brought each one down gently. Focusing completely, ignoring the light that was radiating from somewhere, she sealed the doors shut, and broke all the weapon arrays off of the main bodies of the Apache helicopters.

"_Caro_!" she heard faintly. She ignored the call, but couldn't ignore the stab of pain in her leg. She pulled the slug out irritably, and focused again, trying desperately to keep the cries from the mutants out of her head. Using her hands as guides, she brought the blades of the helicopters away from the fuselage, and wanted to use them as binders, but couldn't identify the enemy from the foe.

"Grant! Who is the enemy?" she yelled. She felt a mind on hers, and, as she looked over each combatant, was able to identify as friend or enemy, and bound those that were the enemy. Finally, when the enemy had been contained, she opened her eyes just in time to see a blast of electric energy headed straight for her. Without thinking, she reached for the metal atoms in the air, and formed a shield in front of her. This backfired, however. When the energy struck her shield, it exploded violently, knocking her unconscious and sending her flying.

"_CARO_!" Grant watched in horror as she landed with a dull thud on the school's lawn. He raced over to find her struggling to sit up, holding her head. When he reached to help her, she shrank back in surprise. She was looking straight into the golden eyes of a dragon!

"G…Grant?" she asked, unsure and dazed.

"_Yes. This is my mutation. Are you _all right?" he asked as he shifted back into his human form.

"I….I think so. How is everyone else?" she asked softly.

"Better, thanks to you. Look," he offered, helping her up. Lyn looked around, and was shocked at what she saw, even though she had orchestrated it. Numerous mutants and soldiers were encase in web-like cages created from the helicopter blades, more were fighting their way out of the helicopters themselves, only to be captured by the mutants from the school. The prisoners were being sprung free from energy cells, and the same cells were being used as more sturdy holds for the mutants Lyn had captured. Her actions had done little damage to the grounds and even less to the mutants on both sides. She was amazed.

She was just about to say something when she felt a mass of metal moving towards her and a hand on her shoulder. She instantly took hold of the metal with her mind, and turned on unsteady feet to find that she had a large, muscular man in her control who had a very peeved look on his face. Grant chuckled.

"Caro, this is Logan. You can put him down, love, he's with us," Grant explained. Lyn immediately set him down gently.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"It's all right," the man replied. "Just wanted to thank you for saving our butts," he continued, smiling.

"Uh….. you're welcome…." she said. "I wi…" Her voice weakened and she collapsed, clutching her head. "Something…. is… wrong…" Even as she said this, all the helicopters and blade-cages floated up and away, led by another helicopter flying under its own power. Grant picked up Lyn, watching the odd procession as it disappeared.

"That would have been Magneto," he said dryly.

"But why did she react so violently…?" Logan asked Grant quietly. Grant only shrugged.

"Let's get you inside love, you'll need you some rest before you go home." Without warning, Grant picked Lyn up bridal-style and carried her into the manor. Logan started to follow, but was stopped by Storm.

"Logan, I am worried about our newest member," she said frankly.

"You sure do cut to the chase. I am too," he replied. "Kid that age shouldn't have that kind of power. Did you see that light coming from her?"

"I did. I want to find out more about this girl, this "Caro", and see if there are any problems she is hiding."

"I think we just need to let Scaly do his work," Logan responded, watching as the pair entered the manor.

"Indeed," Storm agreed. They both felt a change was nearing, not only for the team, but for mutants everywhere.


	9. Chapter 9

It was dark. Closed in, and hot. Her hearing was muted, as if someone had stuffed her ears with cotton. There was burning warmth on her arm, and a searing pain in her head. She wanted to cry out, but her voice was already hoarse. In the dim rumble of sounds, she could just hear the anguished sobbing of a voice she knew, but couldn't remember. There were lights flashing, pulsing in time with her rapid heartbeat. Sound came rushing back, and she was aware of the cackle of flames nearby, of her own labored breathing, of the man's desperate pleas for someone to come back, not to leave him.

She felt a dull zinging in her head, like a live electrical cable was nearby, but she couldn't see one. The zing came from all around her, and when she put her hand on the roof of the car to pull herself forward, the zing became a buzz, and the live cable was in her head. Shocked, she removed her hand, and the sensation dimmed. She reached out again, and the cable was back. Half delirious from the pain, she didn't fully understand what this meant.

She looked around; saw two people in the seats in front of her. The man had a deep cut over his eye that was bleeding profusely, turning his face into a terrified red mask. The woman he was pleading with was upside-down, held in place by the seat belt. Her arms hung loosely, one with one too many bends, and the backs of her hands on the roof of the car. Blood was pooled beneath her head, but the flow was slowing even as she watched. She was upside-down, too, and was beginning to get dizzy. She didn't know how to unbuckle the child-seat, but it came undone with a thought and she tumbled to the ceiling, landing on her bruised shoulder. Flames cast an eerie glow in the car, and voices were shouting nearby. She wondered if they knew who was in the front seat, because she couldn't remember.

Lynn groaned, and woke up. Her sheets were damp with sweat from the dream that hadn't visited in months, and she couldn't remember. In her disoriented state, she wasn't in total control of her powers, and her head buzzed with all the metal in the room. The bed frame, the table, the chairs, the mirror, the walls, the door, the hardware, even the wires within the walls hummed with their presence. With another groan, she dampened the sensation and sat up on the rather thin bed. She realized quickly that she was in a hospital suite, and wondered why, then remembered the previous day's battle. Her arm had been bandaged but the pain was dull enough to ignore. Grant was sitting in a chair next to her bed, sound asleep.

Quietly, so as not to wake Grant, she slipped out of the bed and crept to the door on bare feet. After a moment of feeling around with her mind, Lynn was able to locate her boots, and soon they were floating to her. They became heavier at one point, so she simply tugged harder, but whatever was holding them back wouldn't let go. When she stepped out into the hall to retrieve them, she was surprised to find Kurt was clinging to them grimly as they floated down the hall. Lynn could barely keep herself from laughing at the shocked look on his face.

"You're not supposed to be up," he said quietly, letting go of her boots.

"And boots aren't supposed to fly through the air," she replied, even though she winced as she put all her weight on her injured leg.

"The professor will hang me if you are harmed in any way," he muttered to himself.

"I'm fine," she argued. When she tried to walk forward, however, her leg gave beneath her and Kurt was barely able to catch her before she fell. Grumbling obscenities about warfare, Lynn pushed Kurt away gently and leaned on the wall.

"So I'm not fine," she said to his "I told you so" look.

"I will get you a wheel chair…" he began, turning to do so.

"I don't think so. I will _not_ be carted around in a crip chair!" she demanded.

"But you will not be "carted around" as you say. The chairs are metal, and you will be more mobile than most," he pointed out. He took Lynn's silence as acceptance and continued on his way. With a heavy sigh, she waited.

"What are you doing up?" someone mumbled from the door. Grant was awake, and looked somehow adorable after just waking up.

"Waiting for Kurt to g—," she began, but was cut off when Grant pulled her into a rough hug.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," he demanded quietly, holding her close. Lynn, too shocked to speak, replied with a squeak. The thought echoed in her head that the man that was hugging her shared forms with a forty-foot dragon, but she squashed any anxiety that might have arisen from it. Grant finally released her, but kept a hand on her shoulder to support her.

"Are you all right?" he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Yeah… In one piece, at least," she replied. He smiled dimly at her sarcasm.

"You know it's been three days since the battle." His casual comment gave her pause.

"Three days?"

"Yup. I can feel that much, maybe a little less. You must have worn yourself out."

"Probably," Lynn contemplated, leaning against the wood-paneled wall. "I don't think I've ever used so much of my power at once…"

"So much…? Do you mean to tell me that your little display Monday wasn't all you had?" he asked, disbelieving.

"I don't think so. I could feel a sort of reserve that I've never touched. Why?"

"Because, love, you were glowing. Mutants don't glow." Lynn was about to respond when Kurt returned with a wheelchair for her, and the conversation was dropped.


	10. Sad News

Sad news, friends.

My computer crashed recently, and I lost everything that wasn't on my iPod or online, meaning I have no new chapters for "Falling Into Grace." I can't even begin to say how much this hurts me… I'll try to pick up where I left off, but I can't promise anything, especially now that school has started again and I'll have less time for writing anyway. I've got another story up on fanfiction's sister site, called "The Black Forest," and you're welcome to check it out in the meantime. My author name over there is Dance by Moonlite.

Now comes my question; I'd like your help. I remember some of what I had waiting for "Grace," and I remember mostly not liking it. This is the second draft as it is because I started it on a different computer goodness knows when, then picked it up again when I got my own. So what I ask for are suggestions. Where do you think the story should go? I didn't have much waiting, and there are a few loose ends I'll need to tie up, and I already have an idea about what the catharsis of the whole thing will be, but details are always interesting. So review with ideas, message me, email me, whatever! I'm open to any proposals!

All I can promise is that I'll do my best to keep it interesting!

Love to the readers!

-Jes


	11. Chapter 10

"Professor, I am very worried about this Carolyn," Storm said

"Professor, I am very worried about this Carolyn," Storm said. She was seated in one of the large plush chairs in his office, along with Bishop, Logan, and Hank.

"I understand your feelings, Storm, but I am more worried _for _Carolyn. She does not know who hunts her," Xavier responded.

"And Grant can only provide so much protection," Bishop added.

"We cannot let Magneto have her, for that seems to be his purpose," Xavier continued.

"The attack against her home was only just drawn away by the greed of the attackers for blood, and Kurt was nearly taken. I had to do more to the elements than I would have liked, and very nearly alerted the girl to our presence," Storm said.

"And we had to send the frozen goons back to Magneto," Logan said, grinning.

"And the second attack would have surely found her if we had not acted first. I did not sense true fear in her while in her company, only anger. The lack of fear in her is a dangerous thing, but I believe that perhaps she has seen too much of her own power to fear ours. And she nearly put me completely out of her head," Xavier said in that charming, humble tone of his. The room was quiet for a moment, all-aware of how much this detail meant.

"Then she does have latent psychic abilities," Storm remarked solemnly. Xavier only nodded, his mind a blur with possibilities.

"And now Magneto is willing to attack the manor for finding this girl, Professor we must do something!" Hank said urgently.

"I fear that there is a link between Magneto and Carolyn that we have not yet discovered, but I believe that Magneto cannot sense it or he would have her already. It seems that he knows only her strength and wishes to control it. It also seems that Carolyn may very well be strong enough to face him on her own and at least survive, if she doesn't prevail." There was no hope in Xavier's voice, only cold truth. His brief connection with her mind had showed him more than he cared to know, but he realized that this knowledge was vital. What he didn't share with his colleagues was his fear _of _Carolyn. The girl had amazing control, but her power was so great that he feared for the day when she lost control. He was reminded of the disaster with Jean Grey, how he had tried to contain the entirety of her power so Jean could control it, but the power—that called itself "the Phoenix"—had been so great and recalcitrant that it had claimed Jean and driven her insane. Now, facing nearly the same magnitude of power, Xavier was reluctant to act as he had before.

"What should we do?" Bishop asked, steepling his fingers under his chin and regarding the Professor with level eyes. The room was silent, waiting for his decision.

"For now, we let her recover, and we keep a steady, unobtrusive eye on her. Grant is a wise personage and I have every confidence that he will warn us of perilous circumstances," the Professor said slowly, "but I want you all to recognize her as a person, not just a being of great power. Treat her as your own, as a new student, for this is what she is. Now, I do believe it is time for lunch."

Consenting grumbles answered his remark as the informal council filed out of the room, breaking off to their own business. The Professor, Logan, and Hank could all sense the wariness of the council as they left, but there was hope there, too. For the moment, it was all they had.


	12. Chapter 11

Lyn was strolling lazily around the beautiful and expansive gardens that the manor boasted four days after the attack, taking a

Lyn was strolling lazily around the beautiful and expansive gardens that the manor boasted four days after the attack, taking a break from aiding reconstruction. Her powers were well appreciated when installing new supports and beams became necessary, and she could get a panel of insulation lined up faster than the most adept contractor. And it was especially handy that she didn't need electricity to power the hand-held tools for reaching the corners and high places far from any outlet, if she required the tools at all. Now, as she paused to admire a grand bush of bright red roses, she let her mind relax a little from the strenuous morning, welcoming the solitude and cool breeze.

"Remy see you still got hi' jacket, mon chere," came a voice from behind her. She whirled, the metal around her wrists morphing into throwing blades as she faced the speaker. Surprise and disbelief greeted her with red-on-black eyes as she finished turning.

"A little on edge, no?" the tall man asked in his Creole accent.

"I remember you!" Lyn said, relaxing and returning the blades to their former shape. "You saved my life…"

"A ting I'll not soon forget, mon chere. You got any welcome for ol' Remy?" he asked, opening his arms slightly. Lyn ran forward eagerly and gave him a hearty hug, fondly remembering a night long ago when a skillful staff had saved her from being raped by a gang of rowdies behind the bar she had worked at in Austin. She released the man and smiled up at him, and he brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face.

"I'll always have a welcome for you!" she said, still smiling.

"And still such a pretty little t'ing," he replied, grinning with that secretive air. "Bet Remy can still fin' a cahd or two hidn' away," he challenged.

"I've cleaned it out!" Lyn retorted. "Nothing but my things in it, now."

"Den what's dis?" he asked, reaching into one of the pockets of her jacket and producing an ace of spades.

"That was on you!" she accused. Remy laughed, free and easy, and stuck the card back in his sleeve, where it had been.

"Couldna ever pull de wool over dem em'rald eyes," he said, tousling her hair. "What's goin' at de domicile?" Lyn sobered at his words and started walking back to the manor, motioning that he should follow.

"Magneto attacked earlier this week," she said solemnly.

"Any ken on what he be lookin' for?" Remy asked, picking a blade of sweet grass to chew on.

"I don't know," she replied honestly, "no one seems to know. Or they just won't tell me. Oh! You have to see my bike!" she said excitedly.

"What, ten-speed?" he asked, intentionally jibing her.

"No!" she retorted, elbowing him in the ribs. "A motorcycle!"

"Now Rems tol' you, chere, dem's dangerous t'ings for little girls," he chided gently.

"Oh please. For me, least of all," she scoffed. They had reached the garage by now, and she led him to where her motorcycle was parked. She stood by it proudly.

"Now dat," Remy said, properly awed, "be a bike. Where you get de money for de beast?"

"I saved up enough from waitressing. I bought it about two years after we met," she said, running an admiring hand over the handlebars. "What have you been up to?" she asked, leaning on the bike.

"Oh, dis and dat. Went to de coast for a bit, came to see de folk up here, spent time wit' ma' girl, here and dere. Remy see you been busy," he said slyly. Lyn chuckled, and told him a bit of what had happened recently. Remy knew of Miles and Loretta Jefferson—though he had never met them—and was genuinely saddened to hear of Miles's death. Lyn felt the warmth of solace steal over her; Remy had been like a brother to her for what little time they had spent together, for about a year after meeting, and he was certainly the closest friend she had known before Grant.

"So now lil' Lyn got a place to herse'f up in de hills, and a boy to call hers. Chere, you make Rems feel ol'!" he teased, feigning old age in his actions. Lyn laughed again and gave him a soft punch in the shoulder, which he returned with another, much fiercer, tousling of her hair, and the war had begun. When Grant went to see what the commotion in the garage was, he was very surprised to find Lyn full-out wrestling with a man he could vaguely remember. He was about to intrude and break them apart when he heard a clear, crystalline laugh from Lyn and relaxed a little; apparently she knew this man. They noticed his presence after another moment and finally stopped and pulled themselves apart; Lyn had to straighten her shirt and turn it back around properly, and the man—Remy, Grant thought his name was—had to replace a boot that had been removed, and both brushed dirt off their clothes and straightened their hair.

"Hi Grant," Lyn said, smiling and panting lightly. "Do you know Remy?" she asked, nodding to the man.

"I think we've met once," he replied, shaking the proffered hand.

"We knew each other a while back, when I was in Austin. He gave me this jacket," she offered, stretching her arms against the sudden strain, and massaging her still-tender leg.

"Remy remembers boy," Remy said, readjusting his jacket. "Boy gets big, turn 'to dragon?" Grant chuckled a little.

"Yeah, that's right," he said, still smiling, though it was a little forced. Just how had they known each other?

"What brings you back to the manor, then?" Grant asked conversationally.

"Remy hears Magneto be out on de prowl, t'inks it best he say where he stan'." Grant nodded silently. From what he remembered of the smooth-talking Cajun, Remy couldn't be trusted. At the moment, aside from being tousled by the fight, he looked travel worn and weary.

"Magneto's been pushin' harder and harder to get more of the mutants on his side, and he'll do anything for it. We should let the Professor know you're here," Grant said, still eyeing Remy dubiously. The red-eyed man nodded, and they followed Grant through the halls to the Professor's office, where he was chatting with Storm about how the construction was going.


	13. Chapter 12

"Ah, Remy

"Ah, Remy!" the Professor said, turning to greet them. "So good to see you again! And better to know where you stand with us mutants. Will you be needing a place to stay?"

"Remy ken he stay n' de manor providin' dere be room. You still got dem stables?" he asked.

"We could never keep you away from them in the past and I don't think we could even now," Storm said gently, smiling.

"You have stables?" Lyn asked, stunned.

"Just on the south end of the manor," the Professor replied, "but if you don't mind, Carolyn, I would like a few words with you in private." Grant and Lyn exchanged puzzled looks, but Grant shrugged and left, following Remy. Once they were gone and the door shut, the Professor's lighthearted attitude dropped, and he regarded Lyn closely.

"Carolyn," he began, collecting his thoughts carefully, "you are being hunted for a purpose which I cannot as yet discern. The one that wants you is going to greater and greater lengths to try to find you." After getting past the initial shock of the words, Lyn realized that what he said could be true.

"Magneto?" she asked, taking a seat.

"The first night you stayed in your new home, we had to defend you against an attack by one of his minions," Storm replied.

"The cold!" Lyn said. "And when you took me up in the jet…"

"Another attack deterred," the Professor finished for her. "While you were with us in the jet, Scott and Logan stopped more of Magneto's minions. I cannot imagine what he wants with you so desperately other than to control your powers, which, my dear, are far greater than you may know."

"I've never really tested the extent of my powers… When Magneto attacked earlier this week… That was the furthest I'd ever pushed myself, and I could still feel an untouched reserve, something waiting for me to manipulate it…" Lyn said quietly.

"How much of your past can you remember?" Xavier asked.

"Nothing before the car crash that killed my parents, and I can't remember them. I've… had dreams about the crash, and I vaguely remember knowing of my power after it, but before that I can't remember anything," she replied.

"You say you knew of your powers after the crash, how soon after?"

"Immediately. After I woke up from being knocked out, everything metal around me sort of… buzzed in my head," she answered.

"That is extraordinary, Carolyn. Mutants don't usually come into their powers until around puberty, after a traumatic event, though it seems your experience just occurred very early. How old were you at the time of the crash?" he asked.

"About four, I guess. All I remember of my parents is very vague characteristics… My mother was beautiful; my father had a soothing voice. Before the crash, there is nothing," Lyn said softly, feeling the pain of not having parents that she thought she had forgotten.

"If you don't mind, my dear, I would like to take a brief look into your mind, to see what kind of secrets are floating just under the surface," Xavier said.

"Of course," she replied immediately.

"Good," he said. "Now, if you would sit back, relax, and close your eyes," he continued, facing her and lightly touching her temple with one hand.

_Hello Carolyn, _she heard in her mind.

_Professor, _she replied, grinning just a bit. He was nothing but polite. With her eyes closed, she saw a white room, devoid of anything but walls, floor, and ceiling. The Professor was sitting across from her, in his simple wheelchair, in the same suit he was wearing in reality.

"This is my mind?" Lyn asked, her voice echoing and reverberating as if in an empty silo.

"The surface, yes," Xavier replied. "I would like you with me at every step, and I want you conscious of it all." Lyn looked down at herself, and she saw that she was wearing her same clothes, and appeared just as she did in the real world.

"And now we begin," he said. The room shrank, but was somehow not enclosing, and the walls became transparent. Lyn watched, awestruck, as they drifted about the surface levels of her mind. It was a melee of color, mostly pale tones of blue and green, swirling slowly along fluid paths.

"Train of thought…" she whispered, resting a hand against the clear wall.

"Yes," the Professor said. "Please, Carolyn, I have to concentrate." There was a brief white flash, and she heard Remy's voice, then the scene in the garden faded into view momentarily, like a movie projected onto a huge screen in an outdoors theater. It faded away again, decaying back into the colors of her surface mind. The color-wash began to solidify; the paths became more rigid, with more red and yellow hues mixed in. Then more images began to sweep past, recent events resurfacing. Rebuilding the mansion, Magneto's attack, the first day of school; they all whisked by at incredible speed. They took a sudden turn in their glass elevator, racing away towards a darker patch in the mash of colors. _The subconscious, _Lyn thought. She felt a little trepidation; not many people wanted to explore the subconscious parts of their minds, for fear of what hidden truths they may discover about themselves. The fear left quickly, however, and curiosity took over.

As the images faded, the colors darkened, and became splashes of tint, vibrant lightning strikes of every color imaginable. _Emotions, _she thought, awed. She noticed that some of the strikes were the color of silver, that they were concentrated in one corner, and that they didn't fade as quickly as the other color strikes. Their glass room floated towards that corner, moving steadily faster. The silver looked now like a rich vein of metal in dark, living rock. Pools of it gathered, creating large reservoirs. Lyn realized that she was looking at the center of her power, the center of her control of it. Now their room slowed as they penetrated the cloud of silver, flying close to its center. Then, in the center, where the pool should have been brightest and highly concentrated, there was a dark box of shadow, containing a luminous sphere of quicksilver. The sphere was a writhing, living thing, shot through with impossibly bright tendrils of light, but the light and color was subdued by the box of shadows, contained and stifled by it. _It's my power core! _The thought was shaking to Lyn; she had never consciously contained her power to so great an extent.

"Someone has cordoned off the entirety of your power, long ago, and very well," the Professor said, perplexed. "I've never seen a barrier like this… It allows you to see inside, but allows none of the power out. The fact that it has lasted so long… This was done by a very powerful psychic, when you were a child… Someone tried very hard to control you, my dear," he said. The room had stopped now, and they both regarded the core, like a newborn star in a nebula of power.

"Can we look into my memories?" she asked, inquisitive. The Professor was silent for a moment.

"We will do so, very carefully. Please, sit down and do not touch the walls, and do not move no matter what you see," he said. Lyn did as she was asked, and the room zoomed away from her power core, plunging down through ranks of color and images that moved so quickly that she couldn't recognize them. Eventually, they started to slow and Lyn could identify memories from her past, further and further back. The bar where she had worked in Austin, meeting Remy for the first time, her surrogate parents, the Rutherfords, the first time she met the Lincolns, her time in the orphanage. A scene slowed long enough for her to remember it; one of the first times she used her powers, when she was five. Two of the biggest bullies were chasing her, and she came to a dead end, a metal door with a large padlock on it. Sobbing in fear, already bruised and scratched, she pounded at the door vainly, pulling and tugging the lock as hard as she could. Just as the bullies rounded the corner into her little hallway, she screamed and the lock exploded, cutting her face and hands. The memory floated away and Lyn felt a tear roll down her cheek, but she didn't dare move to wipe it away.

The scenes came slowly now; the Professor was sorting through them for some clue about Lyn's past. Finally, they came to one of the last memories, the one that kept recurring in Lyn's dreams. It started in the car before the wreck, Lyn was singing cheerfully, one of the old nursery rhymes, and her parents were in the front seat, listening to their daughter's happiness. Their faces were not visible, and the perspective couldn't be changed; it was Lyn's memory and all she remembered was what she had seen. After a moment or two, however, the woman turned to glance in the back seat, smiling at her daughter. She slipped her shoulder free of the seatbelt to do so, and started saying something about Lyn's singing ability. Then the man was yelling and the impact happened. Glass shattered, Lyn screamed, and the woman was thrown forward, striking her head against the dashboard. The car rolled once, twice, four times before finally coming to rest upside down. A few seconds later, the gas tank exploded and the memory blacked out. When it returned, Lyn recognized her dream, and watched as she relived it. The man pleading, the woman dead, the cable living in her head. Before it was finished however, they were wrenched out of her subconscious, and Lyn found herself sitting in the Professor's office, panting and gripping the arms of the chair tightly.

"Professor, what is it?" Storm asked, putting a hand on Xavier's shoulder. He looked clearly shaken and backed away from Lyn just a bit. When he spoke, the words were shaky and quiet, and he was obviously stricken by what he had learned.

"My child… You… Your father is Magneto…"


End file.
